


Scars of my Past

by TimeTravelingPirate



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:12:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeTravelingPirate/pseuds/TimeTravelingPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi struggles with the aftermath of being tortured by Ward</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars of my Past

The ghost of an echo is a fickle thing. I felt it every time I glanced in the mirror and noted the scar that was left on my shoulder. Each time my hues fell to it's mark, a tremor of fear would pierce my heart and caused my body to tremble. Those memories were too fresh, to clean in my mind. I could not escape them. Not in day nor in night when my mind was at its weakest state, prone to the dealings of my subconscious as I slept fitfully. 

My mouth remained shut on such matters. No one needed to know of the suffering I dealt with. They needed to know that I was fine. That I was whole. That I was better. How else was I to get back into the field? However, in my quest to convince those around me that I was 100% okay, I fooled myself into think I was. But even at the mention of _his_ name my heart beat a little quicker, a little harder. My eyes darted back and for, fearing that the scruff of a man would round the next corner, evil grin on his face, needles poised at the ready. The truth was, I was terrified and not a soul knew. 

The burden was tough. Brutal. But I bore it alone. I could not risk the concerns of the others. They already had enough to deal with. The threat of a new HYDRA and all of the Inhumans coming to light. No, I would not give them more to worry about. I was a pro at keeping secrets. After all, this was the life of a SHIELD agents. Half truths and lies or misconceptions. 

The door creaked and I quickly looked away from the mirror, fearing that I would be caught glancing at my scar. I did not want to deal with questions. The more I kept silent about it, the less people would bug me about that fact. I was a soldier and soldiers did not complain.


End file.
